


Growing Spirits

by ThePrimeOne



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Mentions of alcohol, Petrashe Week (Fire Emblem), Petrashe Week 2020, Single Dad Ashe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrimeOne/pseuds/ThePrimeOne
Summary: "Look, you don't have to worry about me, Petra. I moved Christophe's cot and put it out here so you can sleep in my bed. I insist."The young woman standing across from him folds her arms. "Ashe. I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. That is my final decision."For Day 5 of Petrashe Week.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Growing Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 5 of Petrashe Week, the prompts in question being Home, Family, and Future.

"Look, you don't have to worry about me, Petra. I moved Christophe's cot and put it out here so you can sleep in my bed. I insist."

The young woman standing across from him folds her arms. "Ashe. I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. That is my final decision."

Ashe sighs again for the umpteenth time that day. It had already been an incredibly stressful day, working as the most recent hire of one of the more popular family restaurants in Garreg Mach City, right through peak hours no less. Still, Ashe knew he had to make ends meet somehow, even if it meant sacrificing time to spend with his recently adopted son, Christophe.

But it was significantly more difficult not to feel frustrated at Petra's stubbornness. The two of them were close, and rarely, if ever had full-blown arguments. But Ashe knows that if hell were to freeze over and such a thing was to occur, then he supposed a silly argument over who should sleep on the couch instead of the bed would be preferable over something much more severe. Petra stares at him with a raised eye as if she was daring him to object. Ashe glances at her with furrowed brows and dares to anyway.

"Petra, it's fine. You don't have to sleep out here," Ashe insists with a frown. He knows that once Petra has settled on something, it's difficult to change her mind. Still, he wants to, has to, try and convince her otherwise. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. You said you'd be here until your apartment finishes renovation, right? You can sleep in my bed. Make yourself as comfortable as possible."

"I am being just fine here, Ashe."

"I know that, Petra. Still, with Christophe..." Ashe huffs and trails off. He looks down to his son (he's still not used to saying that), who's crawling around on the ground towards the lounge and pulls himself up off the ground using the couch. The baby leans over and tries to reach for a toy truck he fancied that Petra had bought for him.

Petra turns to Christophe and quickly steps up to pass the truck to him. The baby looks at Petra with the truck in hand and coos happily with a garbled 'thank you' that Ashe is sure he wants to say but cannot formulate properly quite yet. Just as quickly, the child's attention shifts away to the ground as he guides himself down to the ground slowly with the lounge's support and starts to play with the truck on the carpeted floor, pushing it back and forth with silly noises that hardly resemble a truck.

Petra looks up at the baby's cot in the lounge room in Ashe's small apartment with a straight face. "Are you not having trust in me with Christophe?"

"What? Of course, I trust you," Ashe frowns at her. He knew better than to lie and say he didn't. Ashe had been grateful to have a support network he could rely on, and Petra had unexpectedly played a larger part in than he'd ever expected, with the times she'd babysat for him, even when she still had her studies or training to tend to. 

He'd felt guilty about it back then, but he eventually grew more comfortable with the idea as time passed on. Still, he had some reservations about it.

"I'd rather you not have to deal with Christophe waking up in the middle of the night if he makes any noise at all. The walls are thick between my room and the lounge room. At least if you're crashing in my bed, you can at least  _ try _ and get some sleep," Ashe chuckles. "You already have done more than your fair share as is, Petra. If anything, I'm surprised you came to me when you needed a place to stay at all."

Petra shrugged. "We are living somewhat close. It is being convenient for me."

While that was true, Ashe felt as if there was more to her statement. If Petra's definition of convenient was also 'sleeping through a baby potentially crying in the middle of the night,' then Ashe couldn't exactly argue with that, especially with Petra's blank expression that made it look like she was entirely serious.

"Well, I suppose so? I'm- we're happy to have your company here Petra, we really are, but if you find it a bit too stuffy, I'll understand if you want to find another place to stay. I know Dorothea and Hilda are closer to the middle of the city than we are, but they have a spare room."

"Ashe, all I am hearing is you are wanting to kick me out," Petra huffs and rolls her eyes with her arms crossed.

"N-no, no! Really, I wasn't saying that" Ashe vehemently shakes his head.

Ashe stops when Petra's expression rises into a smile then a hearty laugh erupts from her. "Ashe, I am having a joke! I promise you I have understanding."

Ashe blinks at Petra a few times before Christophe's sputtered laughter echoes from behind them. Both adults look at the child, then at each other before their grins burst into laughter at the sound of the baby's laughter. Ashe walks over to Christophe and scoops him up into his arms. The baby cackles in happy surprise in the sudden elevation, the toy truck now forgotten on the ground.

"Well, since time's marching on, so let's go and get you some dinner," Ashe says, pecking his son on the cheek. Christophe recognises the final word in the sentence with wide eyes. He raises his arms in the air and grins. 

"Dada!" he says excitedly. "Dada! Din-din!" Christophe points to the kitchen, lightly tapping his father on his back. Ashe softly smiles at him, a certain warmth rising in his chest, hearing his son's first word and third words repeatedly.

"Din-din," Petra repeats with a giggle. "How cute."

Ashe's gaze falls to Petra and remembers how she was there to hear and see it too.

Ashe spaces out and remembers all the little moments and milestones of Christophe's she had been there for. His smile, first steps, first word. While plenty of others had occasionally babysat and helped Ashe take care of Christophe when he needed it most, Petra felt about as close to a constant presence and mother-figure as he could get for Ashe's son.

Which only served to make things more complicated between them. It wasn't as if they hadn't been intimate with each other before- but Ashe supposed that put their relationship into question even more after Christophe came into the picture. They weren't consciously in a relationship to speak of, but both knew they were certainly not friends, not in the way most would define it; yet, 'Friends with Benefits' hardly seemed to fit them either, in Ashe's mind. Whatever they were, Ashe couldn't put it into words.

Some might call it strange since she was not Christophe's mother in any official capacity, but Ashe valued her presence a great deal regardless.

After all, Christophe's second word had, and still carried great significance for Ashe. Perhaps even more than hearing him referred to as 'Dada' for the first time or witnessing any of Christophe's developmental milestones.

Christophe looks at Petra and whines, and his hand extended out to her.

"Mama! Din-din!"

Ashe's face heats up, and so does Petra's, both never failing to feel flustered to some extent when the name Christophe had designated Petra came to him so naturally. Ashe still often recalls when Christophe blurted out both words a month prior when Petra had come to visit one Friday evening. They'd insisted on teaching the baby that Petra was in fact, not his mother, but they'd underestimated how stubborn he'd be and eventually gave in.

Kind of like Petra right now, Ashe realises. He looks at her with an awkward smile, like he was a teenager around his crush in high school again; who conveniently stood before him and his son in this very moment.

He clears his throat. "Care to hold him for me? I'll go serve dinner," Ashe says quickly. Petra nods silently and carefully takes Christophe from his arms and embraces the child, holding him up under her legs. Ashe enters the kitchen promptly and looks back to see Christophe coo and press a finger on the mark under her right eye. Petra presses a finger into Christophe's chubby cheek in the same place in response, and Christophe stares at her wide-eyed, jaw dropped. Petra raises an eyebrow, then immediately mirrors his expression, the baby happily laughing at her 'Mama's' face.

Ashe turns back to the kitchen and serves tonight's dinner between three plates, two large and one small. After many not so successful attempts at dinner, Ashe finally determined what Christophe liked the most. Tonight's dinner, chicken bites and rice with ginger and lemongrass chilli sauce always made Christophe giddy from the sourest of moods at the mere sight of it presented to him.

Petra places Christophe in his high chair nestled at the end of the small dining table, and the three dig into their food. The voices of Ashe and Petra's conversation fills the room with Christophe's unintelligible noises sprinkled in between, scooping at his food awkwardly with his hand gripping his spork like he wanted to stab his food instead. Amidst their conversation, Christophe drops the spork in frustration. Petra reaches over for the spoon and scoops up some rice and chicken bites, presenting it to Christophe. The boy eyes the food and consumes it and chews on the mouthful slowly. Ashe watches them with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his son and Petra stare at each other as Christophe chews on his food. He swallows his mouthful of food and blinks at Petra as if to ask her to feed him again.

It was utterly adorable, seeing his little expressions like that. 

"Christophe," Ashe speaks up, gaining the other two's attention and clears his throat. "Have some water," he says and pushes Christophe's bottle towards the toddler. Christophe looks at him with an almost defiant frown, but gives in when Ashe frowns and says, "Please?"

Ashe found out some months ago that the puppy dog eyes worked on his son just as effectively as Christophe's puppy dog eyes worked on him. Two could play at that game. Christophe downs more of his water and lets Petra feed him more before changing his mind and going back to awkwardly scooping at his food again.

He quickly gives up and stuffs his face with his dinner instead.

It was no wonder Ingrid took a liking to him as quickly as she did.

Ashe gets him cleaned up, and the remainder of the night is in part a battle for Ashe to pry Christophe off of Petra, who's distracting the poor woman from her work. When Ashe's son stands up and disappears from his little table in the dining room (again), Ashe sighs and taps a button for the dishwasher to activate and snags a bottle from the bench.

"Mama!" Christophe waddles back into the lounge room, truck in hand. Petra quietly watches him in bemusement as he stumbles up to the couch Petra sits at and climbs up onto the free seat next to her.

Petra sets her laptop aside and shifts her body to face him. "Yes, Christophe?" she responds with a grateful smile, thankful for the distraction the child was providing for her. Trying to appease her desire to maintain her status as a professional swimmer and appease her Grandfather's wishes for her to take up the throne as the Queen of Brigid was extremely difficult. It didn't help that studying international law bored her to no end.

"Duck," Christophe says and holds something out to her. Petra looks down at the toy in his hand, the same yellow truck she'd bought for him some time ago, then back up at the toddler. Christophe crawls across the lounge and places it in her lap.

Petra picks it up and blinks, confused. "...Duck?" 

"Duck!" he throws his arms in the air and backs down onto the couch dramatically. For as much as she adored the toddler, Christophe was truly an enigma to Petra at times.

"Truck. I am thinking you are meaning Truck, Christophe," Petra points out to the toddler, her finger also pointed at the truck.

Christophe blinked and stared at her, trying to process what she said. He pointed to the toy truck, in the same vein as Petra.

"Duck."

She furrows her brows. "Tr-uck," Petra pronounces slowly, but to no avail. Christophe's eyes silently connect with Petra's, and she loses herself in the child's orbs, so curious, innocent and full of life. She wonders if it was strange that she'd become so attached to the child, as if it were her own, and if it was, well, Ashe certainly didn't seem to mind.

Before she can say another word, Ashe makes his presence known and walks in with a bottle in hand. "Christophe. What did I say about distracting Petra?" Ashe huffs and shakes his head. His question and disappointment flew over his son's head when his eyes light up in recognition. Christophe's eyes widen and jaw drops, his hand pointing to the bottle. He looks up at his father, then at Petra and excitedly claps his hands as his father sits at his side, and hands him the bottle.

Christophe drinks his warm milk, and leans back on the couch, satisfied. Ashe wanders over to the cot typically kept in his room and picks it up casually, despite feeling Petra's gaze on him.

"Ashe?" Petra calls out to her, and Ashe turns back to her. "Where are you taking Christophe's cot?"

"Hm? Oh, this? Back to my room. Since, you know, you'll be sleeping out here. I'm sure you don't need to bear the brunt force of Christophe sobbing in the middle of the night." Ashe tells her honestly. He watches Petra's expression change, and he suddenly feels as if he's done something wrong.

"Very well. I am thinking that is a good idea. Christophe looks quite tired, even now," Petra points out, and Ashe immediately spots Christophe's eyes heavy with fatigue, moments before he stops drinking and tosses his bottle to the ground. His mouth hangs open with an awkward stare. Ashe looks to Petra, who shrugs, stumped as he is. Petra raises her right arm and embraces Ashe's son as he wobbles side to side.

"I'll be quick," Ashe nods and carefully places the cot next to the bed in his room, on the right side where Ashe favours for sleep. After making sure it was secure, Ashe's head snaps up when a splatter sound Christophe's crying echoes up through the apartment and to the front room. He jogs back without a moment's hesitation and feels his stomach drop at the scene before him. 

Petra re-enters the scene from the kitchen unscathed with a cloth in hand to wipe at the mess made by Christophe; one of food and liquid on the couch and his clothes. The bottle gets knocked over by Petra in her rush to clean up. The young woman turns back and smiles sheepishly.

"...I am thinking it would not be best if I slept on your couch for tonight."

Ashe rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Probably not."

* * *

When Ashe heard Petra say she didn't want to sleep on his couch, he assumed she'd called Dorothea, Hilda or Caspar, or anyone else to pick her up. 

Ashe didn't expect her to ask to stay, much less realise until much later that he agreed when he found himself staring at sleepy Petra's back facing Ashe, bundled up lightly in his, or he supposed  _ their _ bedsheets. He used to have dreams that started like this when he was younger- not what one may think, even if his hormonal mind occasionally slipped one in there that caught him by surprise.

Just the two of them cuddling together, warming each other in the chilly night, light kisses peppering each other's cheeks before sleep would eventually claim them, and when he'd wake up, to his disappointment and embarrassment.

_ 'Goddess, we're two grown adults, Ashe. Get over yourself,' _ he mentally chides himself.  _ 'You're not a kid anymore.' _

Ashe sighs and turns over on his side, his body not but a meter away from where Christophe slept in his cot. Ashe watched the toddler quietly sleep, his stomach rhythmically rise and fall. Ashe's eyes felt heavy, and he soon went unconscious and dreamt those old dreams again. Petra snuggles up against him, and their arms hold each other as if they were fiercely protecting each other. Petra whispers something Ashe can barely hear but still responds.

"Ashe. Are you unwell?"

"Oh, no, I'm not. It's just…"

She presses a finger to his lips. "I am knowing. You do not have to be telling me."

Petra shifts her head up, eyes still closed, and places a kiss against his jawline. Ashe kisses her forehead in return and looks back up to the starry sky. Petra points to a single star when a noise invades his dream. The stars slowly begin to disappear one by one. He looks down at Petra, who doesn't seem to notice. And all too quickly, it fades to black and Ashe's eyes shoot open, alarms going off in his head when Christophe's wailing registers properly in his mind.

Ashe sits up and tugs on the blankets to throw them off when a hand presses to his shoulder. His head jerks left, and Petra's eyes bore into his. Her head shakes, and she pushes her hand into his shoulder. 

"Ashe, you must rest. I will go and calm him."

Ashe sighs because Goddess knows he didn't deserve her. "Don't worry about me Petra, I-"

"Ashe," she says seriously and squeezes his shoulder, which she pushes, motioning for him to lay down. "You are starting early at your job today, are you not? Your body will need as much sleep as it can get."

He contemplates objecting to her demand but ultimately gives in. No need to ask if she's sure, he realises. He heard it in her voice, and she can see it in her eyes that she'll just insist for his sake. Ashe lays down on his back and feels the sheets shift beside him as Petra turns on a lamp that gently lights the room and strides towards his crying son as quickly as she can and carefully reaches down for him, holding him like he was a fragile porcelain doll.

The young woman pulls the child closer to her, sits at the end of the bed and shifts her arms to hold him protectively. She begins to hum the tune of a song that he'd heard a couple of times within the past year, enough that he could translate the Brigidian words in his head as she sang to calm down his crying son, as if her maternal instincts had kicked in the moment she'd woken up.

A curious thought occurs to Ashe. A reason for why Christophe thought she was his mother, or why their friends teased them as if they were married because he supposed they were in a strange way. Ashe assumed it was why he put in less effort overtime to stop Christophe from calling Petra his mother. Or why he now dodged bait where he'd used to vehemently deny the incessant teasing from their friends about their relationship.

Ultimately, Ashe realised it the moment he grew more comfortable with both ideas than he thought. They were both natural thoughts in a way Ashe could hardly describe. Like a piece of a puzzle that completes a greater whole. Or as if the Goddess or the spirits had dictated it to be so. Either way, neither wanted to question it.

Or maybe that was all but wishful thinking. Ashe had never been good about being vocal about his feelings often, and perhaps these silly thoughts were simply a victim of that.

But still, he had to make sure. Christophe's wailing soon stops, and Petra places the toddler back carefully in his cot, sound asleep. The young woman tiptoes back to her side of the bed and hides underneath the sheets. 

A deceptively short and eerie silence overcomes the room before Ashe speaks again, the lamp still alight.

"Petra?"

"Yes, Ashe?" she tiredly mumbles a reply.

"Thanks for that. And you know… just being here," Ashe whispers, his stare fixed at the ceiling. "And…"

Ashe feels the right side of the bed move as Petra turns to face him. "Ashe. What are you asking me? There is something you wish to say, I am thinking. If there is not, then please be resting."

Ashe's heart thundered in his chest. Leave it up to Petra to see right through him. Ashe shifted his body, so it was facing Petra.

"Yeah, you're right. There is something I want to say. And I know this may seem kind of sudden, but um..." Ashe trailed off quietly, biting his lip in hesitation. "What do you think about marriage and stuff?" If it weren't so late, Ashe would've groaned at his awkward delivery.

"Marriage?" She blinks. She sits on the question for a few more moments in silence before she responds. "My mother, father and Grandfather have always been influencing what I am wanting. My father is insisting I am to be marrying and take the throne. My Grandfather wants me to live free and do what my heart wishes. I am understanding both sides. My father is thinking a little more for my homeland's sake, my Grandfather more for me. For some time, I was not sure, but I was settling on a decision some time ago. Why are you wanting to know?"

Ashe's mouth dips into a frown for a moment; she didn't exactly answer the question. He breathes in through his mouth and out through his nose.

"I was wondering about us. Me and you- and Christophe too, I mean. You've been around a lot, you know? More than anyone. It's hard to imagine Christophe and I being where we are without you to help us. It's probably why Christophe thinks of you as his 'Mama', as well," Ashe chuckles. He can feel Petra's gaze on him when she hums quietly in response.

"Christophe, he… he misses you a lot when you're not here."

His heart beats against his ribs faster by the second.

"...And I do too," Ashe adds quickly, struggling to keep a straight face. "And I was thinking about how fond Christophe was of you when you were singing to him just now. I'm sure he'd love to have you around more often."

Petra sits up higher on her pillow, staring curiously at him. "Ashe, are you proposing to me?"

"N-no!" Ashe rose his voice a little in alarm "I was just curious. Because, uh, you know…"

"I am not knowing," Petra says, betrayed by the eagerness that rose in her voice. The Princess of Brigid shifts over to him to close the gap between them.

"It's just, well," Ashe stops and clears his throat. "Our friends like to tease us about how we're basically already married. It's not exactly original at this point, and I always brushed it off, but, I dunno."

"...Yes?" Petra whispers, pushing him to finish his thought.

Ashe spots Petra's hand resting in the gap between them. He licks his drying lips and carefully brushes his up against hers, intertwining them together. "You being here today made me realise that… maybe they aren't so wrong? And I was wondering if you wanted to make those first steps with me to make things more, uh, official, I guess."

A cold silence overcomes the room. Petra doesn't utter a word as she stares at him, and Ashe feels his stomach drop in utter panic. He couldn't believe that he'd ever feel something like this would be so difficult with her. They'd seen each other naked before for the Goddess' sake, and here he was fumbling through a confession that came out of nowhere like he were a teenager.

He didn't want to imagine how intense his blush was either.

And like a light at the end of the tunnel, Petra's lips turned up into a smile. "You guess?"

Ashe blinks at her question, confused before it clicks. "No. I know." he shakes his head and wraps his hand in hers. "I want you to stay, Petra, to stay with Christophe and me. Um, not physically. You don't have to move, but I mean your heart-"

A weight lifted off his chest, and his heart soars when she reciprocates and holds onto his hand and presses a finger to his lips, both actions that stun him into silence. She releases her finger, leans over and pulls him into a kiss to Ashe's surprise. Before he can reciprocate, she breaks it off and smiles at Ashe, her left hand caressing his cheek. "Of course I will, Ashe. That will not be changing."

His eyes widen, and any words he wants or could say die on the tip of his tongue. Petra's eyes suddenly lose some of its happy light and look away from him.

"I am thankful you were confessing such things first Ashe," she continued, her tone souring for a moment." I was afraid that you did not hold such feelings as I did. But if I am having honesty Ashe, I was not going to be staying here at first. But circumstances were changing, and I am needing to be confessing something to you."

Ashe stares at her and realises the tables have turned. "Confessing? What's wrong, Petra?" he frowns and leans in towards her.

"Yes. It is because of this I am here now with you. And because of you, I am having more confidence. You have my gratitude for that."

"The reason I want to be here was for this," Petra softly says and breathes in and out carefully. "For some time, I have been giving you my support, because I have understanding that family is being precious to you, Ashe. It is the same for me. When I was young, I was learning that my father fell into a deep slumbering for a long time after an accident, and my mother was losing herself in her emotions and alcohol. Only my Grandfather was there to support me."

"I am not usually wanting you to be repaying me. The knowledge you and Christophe are happy is being enough for me. But…" she trails off and remains in silence for a moment before she finally finds the courage to clutch his hand and guide it to her stomach, her eyes gazing into his.

The young woman smiles and her cheeks glow a fiercer red. "Can you and Christophe be supporting me with this little spirit of ours growing within me, as I have supported you?"

Ashe eyes widen, and he stops breathing for a moment to process the question, as dots connect in his head. “You mean…?”

The woman across from her smiles shyly and nods, and Ashe swears he sees tears prick her eyes. He glances at his hand on her stomach, and Petra's gently caressing his. He looks back up and softly presses his forehead to Petra's own with a smile that complemented hers.

"Yes. Goddess, yes, Petra. We'd both love nothing more than that," Ashe smiles and sniffles at the sudden overwhelming revelation. "Besides, a certain someone will be more than happy to have a sibling to play with, I'm sure.”

"Yes, I think so too," she giggled through happy tears that prickled at her eyes. "Thank you, Ashe," she hoarsely whispers into his embrace before sleep consumes them once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the few fics that I 100% finished before Petrashe Week started, so hopefully it's at least better than my day 1 rewrite... we'll see.
> 
> Comments and Kudos appreciated as per usual.


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